Mad Hatters
by mangaluva
Summary: After all of the fuss died down after the London case, Conan tried to visit the Holmes Museum again in peace, but instead had a very bizarre encounter indeed. Oneshot.  It came to me in a dream, so severe lack of sanity warning.


Conan focused on the puzzle that he'd scribbled in his notebook. He focused _very_ hard, carefully ignoring anyone who happened to be speaking to him or reading his notebook over his shoulder or occasionally pointing at parts of the puzzle.

He liked being in London. He was ecstatic to be in Holmes' hometown, to visit the Holmes museum. Unfortunately, he couldn't say the same about meeting some of the Holmes fans there. At least none of them were murderers (or at least, there was no evidence that they were), but they were still annoying. Or at least, one of them was.

" Y'know, if you already know what the solution is, it's much easier to work backwards from it," the taller boy pointed out, jabbing his finger at Conan's notebook for the umpteenth time. Conan jerked his notebook away from the offending finger, glaring up at the boy through his glasses. The boy tugged on the peak of his blue hat.

"Is that rude?" he said, catching on a little slowly, Conan felt. "Sorry. I'm a long way from being a true gentleman."

"A…?" Conan frowned and turned around, surprised by what he thought was a slightly antiquated turn of phrase. He was cut off when a hand appeared on the boy's shoulder, disappearing into a black sleeve, attached to a black coat worn by a tall man in a top hat.

"Now, Luke, you're not pestering this poor boy, are you?" he asked pleasantly, smiling at Conan. He had the smallest eyes Conan had ever seen. The older boy- Luke- quickly shook his head.

"No, Professor! I was just helping him with a puzzle!" he said brightly. Shinichi was about to open his mouth to argue the contrary when his attention was distracted.

"KID!" He yelled, shoving his notebook into his pocket and leaping to his feet as the white-clad thief bowed. Luke yelped in surprise and leapt to his feet, staring at the apparition, while the more composed Professor simply put his chin in his hand, propped his elbow on his other hand, and examined the apparition, who just grinned at them.

"Greetings, little detective," he said in English. "Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am the Kaitou Kid, gentleman thief extraordinaire. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"What are you here for, Kid?" Conan asked, reaching down to turn on his shoes. Luke muttered something about true gentlemen not stealing things. The Professor's pensive expression did not change.

"One thing and one thing only, my little friend!" he said jovially. "Excuse me, gentlemen…" with that, he darted forward, whisking the Professor's top hat from his head. Well, _tried_ to whisk it away; Conan didn't even see the man's hand move, but suddenly the Professor had the Kid's hand in a vicegrip, his hat only slightly tilted in the white-gloved hand. Kid grimaced oddly as the Professor glared at him.

"Now, that's hardly gentlemanly," the Professor said evenly. Conan was just reaching for a football when Luke giggled, and then spoke, in a very familiar voice indeed.

"I quite agree," he said smoothly, and then leaped aside as a football shot through where his head had been. Blue clothes flew everywhere, and suddenly Kid was standing before Conan, full-sized and white-clad. Conan stared from the thief in the Professor's grip to the one grinning at him and spinning a small blue cap on one finger, questions piling up. "Greetings, Tantei-kun," the new Kid said in Japanese, flinging the cap up into the air, where it turned into a small dove and flew away.

"How did you do that?" Conan yelped, looking at a blue jumper that was _far_ too small for the man in front of him to fit into, and then looking at the Kid who was trying to pull out of Layton's grip without letting go of the hat. "Who is that?"

"Paul, have you been trading tips?" The Professor sighed. The man in front of him snarled and then pulled away, white clothes collapsing to the ground in front of the Professor as a tall man with bizarrely spiked hair, a moustache and a long purple coat leaped away.

"Layton! The hat WILL be mine!" the new man- Paul?- roared angrily. "Hey, why're you just standing there?"

"Me?" Kid said with a shrug. "Why, I could never steal a man's top hat! Priceless jewels and irreplaceable works of art, yes, but such a fine top hat?" he tipped the brim of his own to the Professor. "I shall do no such thing! However, I thank you for the disguise tips. I'll have so much fun with them! Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me…"

"Hey-" Conan yelled, darting forward before the thief vanished, but ended up grabbing nothing but an armful of pink smoke. At the same moment, Paul, snarling angrily again, grabbed up his discarded Kid had, which somehow turned into a small propeller which he used to fly away.

"Stop right there!" The Professor called, chasing after him, but within moments, cackling madly, the man had vanished over the rooftops.

Professor Layton sighed and glanced at Conan, who muttered, "any idea what _that_ was all about?"

"Well, I suspect that it is false to say that there is honour among thieves," the Professor said, picking up the blue sweater and checking the label, "… yes, this is Luke's missing sweater… but there may, perhaps, be honour among those with fine taste in hats." He straightened his hat and winked, striding off, leaving Conan still not entirely certain what had just happened. He glanced at a small discarded shoe and sighed.

"_Great. Just great. Some fool taught that maniac even _more_ impossible disguise skills…_"

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_I don't claim to own Conan or Kid, both of whom are property of the great Aoyama Gosho. I also claim no ownership of Don Paolo, Luke Triton or Professor Hershel Layton, all of whom are property of Level-5. If I did own them, _Spectre's Flute _would be out in the UK already…_

_Some people's dreams inspire them to great deeds, or incredible inventions. Mine inspire crackfic._


End file.
